


Olympic Tryouts (part 27)

by jennamacaroni



Series: Olympic Tryouts [27]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennamacaroni/pseuds/jennamacaroni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Brittany have been rivals in the college hockey world for the past four years.  now they’re both at Olympic tryouts to play on the same team and Boston and Minnesota just don’t get along, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olympic Tryouts (part 27)

The bile is sour as Santana spits the remainder of her stomach contents onto the pavement, her hands on her knees. She breathes deeply, in and out, in and out, and studies the vomit absently as she tries to calm herself down. The half-digested Fruit Loops are a rainbow of all sorts of disgusting and another wave of nausea swells. _Why_ did she have to go and fall for Brittany Pierce and ruin everything? Why couldn’t they just be cordial roommates who are friendly but not really close, teammates but nothing more? The look on Coach Taylor’s face said enough. He thinks this, _them_ , are going to ruin the team’s chances at the Olympics. She’s going to get kicked off the team for these feelings that she both can’t and doesn’t want to control. _Why, why, why_?

“San.” Worry is evident as Brittany finally catches up, one hand wiping the matted flyaway strands of hair from Santana’s sweaty forehead and the other rubbing soothing circles to her upper back. “Are you going to be sick again?”

Santana shakes her head and pulls herself up, reaching for Brittany’s hand and squeezing it in thanks. She still can’t look at her yet. “Well that was-”

“I know. I know, honey.”

Honey. A shiver emerges from deep in Santana’s chest and radiates outwards, slipping and sliding down her limbs and pooling in her fingertips. Her heart skips a beat. Her very cells seem to yearn to hear the word again.

“It’s going to be okay,” Brittany promises, leaning forward enough to catch Santana’s eye and smiling so softly. So hopefully. Although Santana’s not sure, she nods anyway and allows Brittany to pull her back in the direction of their dorm room, at first by the hand and then pressed under her and flush with Brittany’s side.

_____

“How are we going to tell the whole team by tomorrow?” Santana whines, flopping down onto her bed face-first and burying her head underneath the pillow. Brittany shuts the door before crossing the room, kicking off her sneakers en route so they thud against the dresser and presses herself between Santana and the window.

“I don’t know, Gollum, why don’t you come out of your cave and we can figure it out together?” Brittany suggests, snuggling in alongside Santana and nosing her way under the pillow to press a kiss to Santana’s cheek.

“I don’t want to piss anyone off,” Santana mumbles, turning to look at Brittany who frowns in return.

“I don’t see why anyone will have a problem with it.” She tucks a strand of hair behind Santana’s ear. “We won’t really be much different than we have been the last week at least. Tina calls us a battery pack, you can’t have one without the other.”

“But what if they do?” Eighteen years of skating, of crack-of-dawn practices, of broken bones and painful bruises that got her here to Colorado, training on the Olympic team.

“Honestly? They can get over it. Listen, the bottom line is this team is much better with us than without us and it’s not like this relationship is going to be a legitimate distraction for anyone. If anything, the only person who will get upset is Rachel because she’ll think we were hiding it from her. Wolfpack etiquette or something else silly.”

“How do we want to do it? Just gather everyone up while we’re at dinner? Or wait until we’re back here before bed? Ugh, I can’t believe we have to announce it. Like now it’s this Big Thing.”

“San, it was kind of already a big thing. Wasn’t it?” The way Brittany’s voice comes out just a little shy quickens Santana’s pulse and she realizes Brittany is right. It’s been a big thing since the very beginning. Since the first time she lined up across the ice from Brittany Pierce, she’s been a force.

“Yeah, it was, B.” And she closes the distance between them, bumping their noses together and capturing Brittany’s lips.

_____

They pass the afternoon watching Dawson’s Creek on Netflix, making out like teenagers and napping tangled up in each other. Although there’s a distinct undercurrent of nervousness, Santana feels mostly like calm seas before an impending storm. Braced to fight, but surface smooth as glass because Brittany’s drool is dampening her shirt and their heartbeats are nearly in sync, pressed together under the blankets.

_____

The sense of calm vanishes mid way through the walk to the dining hall. Someone is going to flip out and what does she do? Fight back? Threaten someone? Argue with her own teammates for the sake of her selfish happiness? Suddenly every argument seems like the wrong one.

_____

Santana hasn’t touched her dinner and she’s been staring at it for nearly twenty minutes. When the makeshift communal table is finally full, Brittany nudges their knees together and Santana stands, clearing her throat loudly. “Listen up!” she shouts, side conversations stopping mid-sentence to see what the interruption is all about. She pulls her shoulders back, standing as tall as she possibly can, and prepares her best head-bitch-in-charge voice. “Listen Not that it’s any of your business or anything, but Coach is making me tell y’all something that is important for the team to know. Brittany and I are dating,” she states, pausing to make eye contact with Brittany who nods in encouragement. “If you’ve got a problem with it, you can take it up with either of us whenever you’d like. Otherwise, get back to it.”

The table is silent as Santana takes her seat again, all eyes turned to her and Brittany in the center. Quinn is the first one to move, pressing a hand over her mouth to hide her snicker and Mercedes is rolling her eyes, popping a tater tot into her mouth.

Rachel Berry of course has to be the one to break the silence. “I KNEW something was going on!” she shrieks, tone high enough for the dogs to hear. “Did you two really not even think of how I-”

“Oh, can it, Rachel,” Brittany moans, picking up a french fry and whipping it at Rachel, hitting her square between the eyes.

“Really guys, it’s not going to be a big deal. Not going to say we won’t be caught making out in a dark corner the next time Tina’s grandparents allow us back to their house-”

“Which may be never, by the way,” Tina adds, shrugging like she should care more than she does.

“Either way, this doesn’t change anything. I’m hungry as ever for that gold medal, and I know all of you are too. And we’d appreciate it if everyone went out hard and fast tomorrow morning in practice, because Coach is going to be on our case.” There’s the buzz of murmurs and affirmations around the table and that’s the end of it, Santana once again marveling at how Brittany has such an easy way with people. You just have to believe in her, there’s no other way about it.

_____

“You’re really special. You know that, right?”

“Shut up, San,” Brittany brushes off, blushing and burrowing her face into Santana’s neck while they’re falling asleep in Brittany’s bed later that night.

“I mean it. You’ve got a good head on those tall shoulders, Pierce.”

“Goodnight, Santana,” she chuckles, evading the compliment and pressing a long and soft kiss to her lips. “See you bright and early, pretty girl. I have a feeling Coach is going to kick our ass.”


End file.
